If someone had asked me, before this trip started - "who doesn't pick you up?" I would have immediately said "Asians, recent immigrants and families". There have been some exceptions to the bit about families and recent immigrants. By my count in all of my years of hitchhiking, four recent immigrants have offered me drives and only one family who were tourist from Australia have. I would have probably bet money on those rules remaining consistent this trip if I could have found anyone silly enough to take the bet.
I crossed the highway at the set of lights, dropped my pack and waited patiently for a friendly driver that hopefully take me out of Manitoba. In particular I have had the odd problem getting out of Brandon the next city down the road. I did not want to be stuck there. Nor did I want this trip to be a series of short drives with long waits in between. As of yet I wasn't exactly stuck in the middle of nowhere. There was a gas station across the road and there was certainly lots of traffic going north up the Yellowhead Highway ( how I love those two words) .... but not a lot going my way west. Maybe I should have gone with Jack... I could have gone all the way to the west coast on that highway and I would have be able to write "Yellowhead highway" a hundred times.
I was at that spot for no more than ten minutes when a van pulled over,a young person got out of the front, helped me load my pack into the back of the van and invited me into the front seat, while he along with a younger and older sister sat in the back seat.They were a Chinese family, who as I later found out had immigrated last November. It is a good thing I never found someone silly enough to take that bet...I would have lost money.
In spite of the fact that they had picked me up to practice their English, there was initially not a lot of conversation. I think they were shy about their language skills. I do not think that they knew what questions to ask. Their young son acted as translator, with me asking him questions, him translating the questions into Chinese, getting the answer and then passing the answer back to me. I was surprised at this in part because every once in a while Dad would answer a question directly to me in fairly clear English. Two small conversations remain in my mind. One was about dandelions. They wanted to know what those nice yellow flowers were in their front yard. It took me some time to make myself clear what they were called. It was my fault. They were having some difficulty pronouncing the word....I separated the word into two syllables. When I said "lion" they got quite animated..... and confuse. Why was I talking abut animals -they were talking about flowers? We eventually got it sorted out. Their real questions seemed to be "why were their neighbours so upset about the beautiful spring flowers?". I suspect me telling them that they could eat the greens and make wine from the flowers will do nothing to make their neighbours happy next spring.
The second topic started of with me asking the father how he was allowed to have three children. I told him that it was my understanding that in China families were only allowed to have one child. They were confused by my questions...where did I get three children from, he only had two. I had mistakenly seen the older female in the back seat as a daughter when in fact she was his wife and the mother of the two kids. I covered my embarrassment by saying she looked far too young to be a mother.It was the truth but the fact that she was in the back seat had strengthened my impression. Their answer when it came was quite simple...in the northern and more rural parts of China two children are frequently allowed
The little girl who had been quiet for much of out ride asked me what I called my facial hair. She knew the word for mustache, but not beard. The all seem to have fun pronouncing the word until they had internalized it. I am not too sure if I would have been so dedicated to learning another language.
All of a sudden my driver pulled of the road and started down a poorly paved country road. I was surprised to say the least....they had told me they were going to Brandon. I was being abducted by Chinese immigrants! Their son perhaps because he saw the panicked look upon my face quickly explained. They were going to take a few minutes to look at a cafe that the father wanted to buy. It would be charitable to call Austin, Manitoba a one horse town. There was, if I remember rightly a feed store, a small grocery store and a closed cafe. I didn't see the horse but it would have fitted right in. The two parents and their little girl walked around trying to look in the windows while the son stayed with me. His mother was not that keen on them moving to a small town and running business but the dad thought that it would be a good way of establishing themselves. When I asked what they knew about business, they admitted they knew very little. (Dad was some sort of professional designer in China).
Fairly shortly afterwards they let me out at the east end of Brandon. I wish they had driven me to the west end, but that is being picky. It was not that far to walk and I was very grateful for the ride. They were an amazing family. Canada continues to be blessed with immigrants who chose to come here and who are committed to not only becoming Canadians but as well to contributing to our/their society. I was honoured to have them choose my country to be theirs. I told them so. As they drove away and I started my brief hike down the road I wondered if in five years they will pick up hitchhikers, or whether they will have become so completely Canadian that they too will share the paranoid view that all who are on the road are dangerous.
It would be a shame if they became that Canadian.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
On the Road 2011 blog #8
I have writer's block.... or at least if I was a writer I would be blocked..... not too sure why. I know the next part of the story - after all I was there. I can see the car and the driver clearly. Perhaps it is just that I think that it should have been a phenomenal ride or that something exciting occurred or that there was a moment of absolute truth in our conversation.. It was after all my first ride of the season and surely something exciting should have happened. But nothing exciting happened. We didn't solve the problems f the world, we barely had time to discuss them.
What was amazing was that I got a ride.... I swear, I wasn't really trying to attract the attention of a driver...I was just practicing for that spot down the road where I would drop my pack and stick out my thumb for real. But he did stop and I ran. I don't think that I ever have got a ride so easy....never with the pack still strapped tightly to my back. It is a lot easier to run with the pack still attached to one's body as opposed to hanging off of one shoulder. Another first was that I got to the car hardly out of breath. My cardiologist would have been pleased, I think.
Jack was off to somewhere along the Yellowhead Highway just south of Saskatoon. (does any other country have such romantic names? "Along the Yellowhead Highway - just south of Saskatoon"....does it get any better than that?) I was tempted to go with him just so I could say that I had done it. The turn off to that northern route is only few minutes the other side of Portage so it we did not have much time to talk once we got the basics out of the way...such as who I was and where I was going, and who he was and where he was going.
Jack was a young guy and had not done a lot of hitchhiking but he said that he always picked up hitchers. No particular reason - he just did it. Folks like Jack give me a lot of hope for the future. Just basically nice people doing what makes them feel good. He worked in Winnipeg but his parents home was north of there. He was going home to see his family. I don't know what he worked at, we did not get that far in the conversation. But I sure what ever he does, he will do it well. He struck me as that kind of guy. Jack like so many of my drivers in the past and I hope in the future are people who I would have liked to spend more time with. Not because they are brilliant or wonderfully creative or have done amazing things but because they have interesting things to say, because they have thought about their lives and the world around them. So as is almost always true the ride was too short. Not just because we only travelled relativity few miles together but because we had just started that slow dance of getting to know each other. I suppose it is a good thing that I leave many of my drivers with a sense of regret that is shared by both us.
I guess I really didn't have writer's block after all.
What was amazing was that I got a ride.... I swear, I wasn't really trying to attract the attention of a driver...I was just practicing for that spot down the road where I would drop my pack and stick out my thumb for real. But he did stop and I ran. I don't think that I ever have got a ride so easy....never with the pack still strapped tightly to my back. It is a lot easier to run with the pack still attached to one's body as opposed to hanging off of one shoulder. Another first was that I got to the car hardly out of breath. My cardiologist would have been pleased, I think.
Jack was off to somewhere along the Yellowhead Highway just south of Saskatoon. (does any other country have such romantic names? "Along the Yellowhead Highway - just south of Saskatoon"....does it get any better than that?) I was tempted to go with him just so I could say that I had done it. The turn off to that northern route is only few minutes the other side of Portage so it we did not have much time to talk once we got the basics out of the way...such as who I was and where I was going, and who he was and where he was going.
Jack was a young guy and had not done a lot of hitchhiking but he said that he always picked up hitchers. No particular reason - he just did it. Folks like Jack give me a lot of hope for the future. Just basically nice people doing what makes them feel good. He worked in Winnipeg but his parents home was north of there. He was going home to see his family. I don't know what he worked at, we did not get that far in the conversation. But I sure what ever he does, he will do it well. He struck me as that kind of guy. Jack like so many of my drivers in the past and I hope in the future are people who I would have liked to spend more time with. Not because they are brilliant or wonderfully creative or have done amazing things but because they have interesting things to say, because they have thought about their lives and the world around them. So as is almost always true the ride was too short. Not just because we only travelled relativity few miles together but because we had just started that slow dance of getting to know each other. I suppose it is a good thing that I leave many of my drivers with a sense of regret that is shared by both us.
I guess I really didn't have writer's block after all.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
On the Road 2011 #7
One of my minor pleasures when I hitchhike is the knowledge that I am fairly proficient in my use of the public transportation system in various cities across Canada. Winnipeg is my favourite city for buses and most importantly their bus drivers. However it was Saturday morning this time and I was not sure how effective the bus system would be. I need not have worried. There is a bus stop outside of the train station. There were 2 other people waiting for a bus so I asked them if I could get a connection to the old bus terminal. I was told yes so I waited for the ten minutes until the bus came.
Within a very short time I got off at the old, now unused bus terminal and waited for the next bus. When it came the driver told me that if I wanted to waited 20 more minutes there would be one along than would get me a bit closer. I decided to get on the bus. Movement west was the objective. Standing still was not part of the plan. I would have lots of time for that later on. It was a good choice as the driver was talkative. He liked to travel and he mostly liked his job so we had lots talk about. I told him that I had always liked the Winnipeg bus service and their drivers. I wondered out loud if it was in part because they were happier in their jobs as compared to say the bus drivers in Calgary. He disagreed and listed number of concerns that drivers had in Winnipeg. Regardless of his concerns he was a bright articulate and friendly man who was glad to share part of his morning with someone he didn't know but had a few stories to tell. Like almost everyone I talk to, he wanted to know how the travelling was, did I get very many rides, did I ever have any problems? I am always glad to talk about hitchhiking, not so much in terms of wanting to convince people to do it, but at least putting the seed out there that it is not a terrible thing. Perhaps some of the people that ask me these questions will never hitch a ride, but they might think about picking up someone
Where he left me off was about where I always got off so I would have gained little by waiting the 15-20 minutes and I would have missed an enjoyable conversation The day had started of being sunny but it had gradually gotten cloudy. Still it was a pleasant day and I enjoyed the walk. As I ambled along towards the highway, dodging cars as they made for the off ramps I realized that I was little bit more apprehensive than normal. I am still not too sure why. Perhaps because last year had ended on such a strange note, or perhaps because this year things had felt a bit more rushed than normal. Regardless of why, I started to stick out my thumb just past the first stoplight. Usually the traffic is far too thick and going too fast to have a reasonable chance of getting a car to stop at this point. I usually make my stand well past the Flying J where the traffic has at least thinned out. I also almost never walk and hitchhike at the same time. Waking backwards is difficult and even sometimes dangerous as one can't see the pot holes behind you. It is also a very slow way of travelling. But I did show my sign and after 10-20 steps I turned around and stuck out my thumb. I was just practicing - making sure that I had not forgotten how to do it. I was not serious about getting a ride. I still had another three quarters of a mile to walk before I was in "my spot". But a car stopped and I had my first ride of the season.
Within a very short time I got off at the old, now unused bus terminal and waited for the next bus. When it came the driver told me that if I wanted to waited 20 more minutes there would be one along than would get me a bit closer. I decided to get on the bus. Movement west was the objective. Standing still was not part of the plan. I would have lots of time for that later on. It was a good choice as the driver was talkative. He liked to travel and he mostly liked his job so we had lots talk about. I told him that I had always liked the Winnipeg bus service and their drivers. I wondered out loud if it was in part because they were happier in their jobs as compared to say the bus drivers in Calgary. He disagreed and listed number of concerns that drivers had in Winnipeg. Regardless of his concerns he was a bright articulate and friendly man who was glad to share part of his morning with someone he didn't know but had a few stories to tell. Like almost everyone I talk to, he wanted to know how the travelling was, did I get very many rides, did I ever have any problems? I am always glad to talk about hitchhiking, not so much in terms of wanting to convince people to do it, but at least putting the seed out there that it is not a terrible thing. Perhaps some of the people that ask me these questions will never hitch a ride, but they might think about picking up someone
Where he left me off was about where I always got off so I would have gained little by waiting the 15-20 minutes and I would have missed an enjoyable conversation The day had started of being sunny but it had gradually gotten cloudy. Still it was a pleasant day and I enjoyed the walk. As I ambled along towards the highway, dodging cars as they made for the off ramps I realized that I was little bit more apprehensive than normal. I am still not too sure why. Perhaps because last year had ended on such a strange note, or perhaps because this year things had felt a bit more rushed than normal. Regardless of why, I started to stick out my thumb just past the first stoplight. Usually the traffic is far too thick and going too fast to have a reasonable chance of getting a car to stop at this point. I usually make my stand well past the Flying J where the traffic has at least thinned out. I also almost never walk and hitchhike at the same time. Waking backwards is difficult and even sometimes dangerous as one can't see the pot holes behind you. It is also a very slow way of travelling. But I did show my sign and after 10-20 steps I turned around and stuck out my thumb. I was just practicing - making sure that I had not forgotten how to do it. I was not serious about getting a ride. I still had another three quarters of a mile to walk before I was in "my spot". But a car stopped and I had my first ride of the season.
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